CHAPTER XIX
DISGRACE
Segrave, too, had been silent, of course. In his mind there was neithersuspense nor calm. It was utter, dull and blank despair which assailedhim, the ruin of his fondest hopes, an awful abyss of disgrace, ofpunishment, of death at best, which seemed to yawn before him from theother side of the baize-covered table.
Instinct--that ever-present instinct of self-control peculiar to thegently-bred race of mankind--caused him to make frantic efforts to keephimself and his nerves in check. He would--even at this moment ofcomplete ruin--have given the last shreds of his worldly possessions tobe able to steady the febrile movements of his hand.
The pack of cards was on the table, just as Endicott had put it down,after dealing, with the exception of the queen of hearts in front ofSegrave and the lucky king of diamonds on which Lambert was stillmechanically gazing.
He was undoubtedly moved by the desire to hide the trembling of hishands and the gathering tears in his eyes when he began idly to scatterthe pack upon the table, spreading out the cards, fingering them one byone, setting his teeth the while lest that latent cry of misery shouldforce its way across his lips.
Suddenly he paused in this idle fingering of the cards. His eyes whichalready were burning with hot tears, seemed to take on an almost savageglitter. A hoarse cry escaped his parched lips.
"In the name of Heaven, Master Segrave, what ails you?" cried Endicottwith well-feigned concern.
Segrave's hand wandered mechanically to his own neck; he tugged at thefastening of his lace collar, as if, in truth, he were choking.
"The king.... The king of diamonds," he murmured in a hollow voice. "Two... two kings of diamonds...."
He laughed, a long, harsh laugh, the laugh of a maniac, or of a manpossessed, whilst one long thin finger pointed tremblingly to the cardstill held by Richard Lambert, and then to its counterpart in the midstof the scattered pack.
That laugh seemed to echo all round the room. Dames and cavaliers,players and idlers, looked up to see whence that weird sound had come.Instinctively the crowd drew nigh, dice and cards were pushed aside.Some strange drama was being enacted between two young men, moreinteresting even than the caprices of Fortune.
But already Endicott and also Sir Marmaduke de Chavasse had followed thebeckonings of Segrave's feverish hand.
There could be no mistake in what they saw nor yet in the ominousconsequences which it foretold. There was a king of diamonds in thescattered pack of cards upon the table, and yet the card which Lambertheld, in consequence of which he had just won two hundred pounds, wasalso the king of diamonds.
"Two kings of diamonds ... by all that's damnable!" quoth LordWalterton, who had been the first to draw nigh.
"But in Heaven's name, what does it all mean?" exclaimed Lambert, gazingat the two cards, hearing the comments round him, yet utterly unable tounderstand.
Segrave jumped to his feet.
"It means, young man," he ejaculated in a wild state of frenzy, maddenedby his losses, his former crime, his present ruin, "it means that youare a damned thief."
And with frantic, excited gesture he gathered up the cards and threwthem violently into Richard Lambert's face.
A curious sound went round the room--a gasp, hardly a cry--and all thosepresent held their breath, silent, appalled at the terrible tragedyexpressed by these two young men standing face to face on the brink of adeathly and almost blasphemous conflict.
Mistress Endicott was the first to utter a cry.
"Silence! silence!" she shouted shrilly. "Master Segrave, I adjure youto be silent.... I'll not permit you to insult my guest."
Already Lambert had made a quick movement to throw himself on Segrave.The elemental instinct of self-defense, of avenging a terrible insult byphysical violence, rose within him, whispering of strength and power, ofthe freedom, muscle-giving life of the country as against theenervating, weakening influence of the town.
He knew that in a hand-to-hand struggle with the feverish, emaciatedtownsman, he, the country-bred lad, the haunter of woods and cliffs, thedweller of the Thanet smithy, would be more than a match for hisopponent. But even as his whole body stiffened for a spring, his musclestightened and his fists clenched, a dozen restraining hands held himback from his purpose, whilst Mistress Endicott's shrill tones seemed tobring him back to the realities of his own peril.
"Mistress Endicott," he said, turning a proud, yet imploring look to thelady whose virtues had been so loudly proclaimed in his ears, "Madam, Iappeal to you ... I implore you to listen ... a frightful insult whichyou have witnessed ... an awful accusation on which I scarce can trustmyself to dwell has been hurled at me.... I entreat you to allow me tochallenge these two gentlemen to explain."
And he pointed both to Segrave and to Endicott, The former, after hismad outburst of ungovernable rage, had regained a certain measure ofcalm. He stood, facing Lambert, with arms folded across his chest,whilst a smile of insulting irony curled his thin lips.
Endicott's eyes seemed to be riveted on Lambert's breast.
At mention of his own name, he suddenly darted forward, and seemed to beplunging his hand--the hand which almost disappeared within the amplefolds of the voluminous lace cuff--into the breast pocket of the youngman's doublet.
His movements were so quick, so sure and so unexpected that noone--least of all Lambert--could possibly guess what was his purpose.
The next moment--less than a second later--he had again withdrawn hishand, but now everyone could see that he held a few cards in it. Thesehe dropped with an exclamation of loathing and contempt upon the table,whilst those around, instinctively drew back a step or two as if fearfulof coming in contact with something impure and terrible.
Endicott's movements, his quick gestures, well aided by the wide lacecuffs which fell over his hand, his exclamation of contempt, had allcontributed to make it seem before the spectators as if he had found afew winning cards secreted inside the lining of Richard Lambert'sdoublet.
"Nay! young sir," he said with an evil sneer, "meseems that explanationshad best come from you. Here," he added, pointing significantly at thecards which he had just dropped out of his own hand, "here is a vastlypleasing collection ... aces and kings ... passing serviceable in aquiet game of primero among friends."
Lambert had been momentarily dumfounded, for undoubtedly he had notperceived Endicott's treacherous movements, and had absolutely no ideawhence had come those awful cards which somehow or other seemed to beconvicting him of lying and cheating: so conscious was he of his owninnocence, that never for a moment did the slightest fear cross his mindthat he could not immediately make clear his own position, and proclaimhis own integrity.
"This is an infamous plot," he said calmly, but very firmly. "SirMarmaduke de Chavasse," he added, turning to face his employer, whostill stood motionless and silent in the background, "in the name ofHeaven I beg of you to explain to these gentlemen that you have known mefrom boyhood. Will you speak?" he added insistently, conscious of astrange tightening of his heartstrings as the man on whom he relied,remained impassive and made no movement to come to his help. "Will youtell them, I pray you, sir, that you know me to be a man of honor,incapable of such villainy as they suggest? ... You know that I did noteven wish to play ..."
"That reluctance of yours, my good Lambert, seems to have been a prettycomedy forsooth," replied Sir Marmaduke lightly, "and you played to somepurpose, meseems, when you once began.... Nay! I pray you," he addedwith unmitigated harshness, "do not drag me into your quarrels.... Icannot of a truth champion your virtue."
Lambert's cheeks became deathly pale. The first inkling of the deadlyperil of his own situation had suddenly come to him with Sir Marmaduke'scallous words. It seemed to him as if the very universe must stand stillin the face of such treachery. The man whom he loved with all the fervorof a grateful nature, the man who knew him and whom he had whollytrusted, was proving his most bitter, most damning enemy.
After Sir Marmaduke's speech,
his own employer's repudiation, he feltthat all his chances of clearing his character before these sneeringgentlemen had suddenly vanished.
"This is cruel, and infamous," he protested, conscious innocence withinhim still striving to fight a hard battle against overwhelming odds."Gentlemen! ... as I am a man of honor, I swear that I do not know whatall this means!"
"It means, young man, that you are an accursed cheat ... a thief ... aliar!" shouted Segrave, whose last vestige of self-control suddenlyvanished, whilst mad frenzy once more held him in its grip. "I swear byGod that you shall pay me for this!"
He threw himself with all the strength of a raving maniac upon Lambert,who for the moment was taken unawares, and yielded to the suddenness ofthe onslaught. But it was indeed a conflict 'twixt town and country,the simple life against nightly dissipations, the forests and cliffs ofThanet against the enervating atmosphere of the city.
After that first onrush, Lambert, with marvelous agility and quickknowledge of a hand-to-hand fight, had shaken himself free of hisopponent's trembling grasp. It was his turn now to have the upper hand,and in a trice he had, with a vigorous clutch, gripped his opponent bythe throat.
In a sense, his calmness had not forsaken him, his mind was as quiet, asclear as heretofore; it was only his muscle--his bodily energy in theface of a violent and undeserved attack--which had ceased to be underhis control.
"Man! man!" he murmured, gazing steadily into the eyes of hisantagonist, "ye shall swallow those words--or by Heaven I will killyou!"
The tumult which ensued drowned everything save itself ... everything,even the sound of that slow and measured tramp, tramp, tramp, which waswafted up from the street.
The women shouted, the men swore. Some ran like frightened sheep to thedistant corners of the room, fearful lest they be embroiled in thisunpleasant fracas ... others crowded round Segrave and Lambert, tryingto pacify them, to drag the strong youth away from his weakeropponent--almost his victim now.
Some were for forcibly separating them, others for allowing them tofight their own battles and loud-voiced arguments, subsidiary quarrels,mingled with the shrill cries of terror and caused a din which grew indeafening intensity, degenerating into a wild orgy as glasses wereknocked off the tables, cards strewn about, candles sent flying andspluttering upon the ground.
And still that measured tramp down the street, growing louder, moredistinct, a muffled "Halt!" the sound of arms, of men moving aboutbeneath that yawning archway and along the dark and dismal passage withits hermetically closed front door.
The Nest of the Sparrowhawk: A Romance of the XVIIth Century Page 19